


New Beginnings

by JayWrites



Series: Love, Hurt, & Misery [5]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Celibacy, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Smut, sexy fun times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayWrites/pseuds/JayWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Cassie have decided to restart their relationship. Yet untold secrets and new challenges threaten their newly emerging bond. Will they be able to survive them all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Chapter, Same Old Shit

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be much longer but I didn't like the way it was going so I broke it into two chapters. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

@CP_Greene88: Listening to TLC always gets me hype! #soexcited #newbeginnings

\-----------------

Cassie stood in front of the mirror in Charlie’s bathroom reapplying her lipstick. She had originally chosen a dark red but decided that would be too bold (and sultry); so she opted for a nude color instead. Something soft and sweet. She then took a couple steps back—nearly hitting the opposite counter behind her in the small room—and rotated her head from one side to the other. She sucked her teeth and groaned at the completed look before tossing her arms up in frustration and exiting the room.

She walked to Charlie’s bedroom, pulled out a light blue romper from the closet, and put it on. The outfit was a little _too_ well fitted and hugged the curves of her ass. “Shit,” she mumbled as she tugged at the bottom of it in hopes of further preventing it from riding up.

“What’s the matter,” Charlie asked her from the doorway.

Cassie gasped and turned in surprise to face him. She placed a hand on her chest as she took a calming breath and asked, “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. I just got home less than a minute ago.” He walked into the room, removed and tossed his jacket onto the bed, then fell backwards onto it.

“How was the set,” she asked as she continued to pull at the fabric of her outfit.

Charlie exhaled a large groan then answered, “You know how reshoots can be. But thankfully in a week this will all be over with. Then comes the fun part: editing.”

Cassie chuckled at his sarcastic tone. “Aw, cheer up, boo. Remember that after all the pain and turmoil you’ll have a baby you’ll be proud of.”

Charlie sat up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow at his friend’s comment. “Wait a minute. What’s going on here?”

“I think,” she muttered a curse to herself then wiggled her hips as she continued trying to pull the bottom of her jumper down, “I think… this shrunk. Somehow. Even though I haven’t worn it yet.”

“No,” Charlie chuckled. “First of all, that jumper _obviously_ didn’t shrink.” He rose, walked to the closet, and pulled out a short pink sundress. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Cassie replied with a frown as she grabbed the dress from him and exited back into his bathroom.

Charlie followed her and leaned against the wall next to the room. “Second of all,” he continued his earlier thought, “I meant… when did we change roles?”

“What,” Cassie questioned behind the door.

“Usually you’re the one who’s down and I have to be your cheerleader but recently the tables have turned.”

Cassie opened the door and peaked her head out. “I don’t know,” she answered with slight hunch of her shoulders. “It be’s like that sometimes.” She quickly closed the door again.

“Oh does it now?”

“Yep!”

“I call bullshit.”

“What?” This time Cassie fully opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Her blue jumper was carelessly draped over her right arm. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been really, _really_ happy lately. It’s… strange.”

“Happy me is strange,” she asked with a turn of her head and a raised brow. “Some friend you are.”

“No, Cas, I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean… I was just saying that it’s nice.”

“You said ‘strange.’”

“Well I meant ‘nice.’” Cassie rolled her eyes and entered the bedroom again. Charlie, again, followed her. “No really, Cas. I like that you’re all happy and positive and shit. I mean happy looks great on you. Better than that lip stick.”

Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “I knew it! It looks horrible doesn’t it?”

“No, no. It just brushed off a little while you were changing.” He pulled a couple of tissues out of the box on his nightstand and handed it to her. “Here.”

“Thanks. Wait! It didn’t get on my dress did it?”

“A little on the edge there.” He pointed to a small stain on the collar that stood out against the pink color.

“Shit! This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t make me change clothes.”

“Girl, I did you a favor. Your ass was hanging all out.” Cassie only sucked her teeth in reply and walked back to the bathroom to clean her dress and reapply her make up. “So,” Charlie called out as he jumped on the bed and finally kicked off his shoes, “where you going?”

“Out.”

“I see that. Out where?”

“To a dinner meeting with Ash.” That was a lie. While she did have a meeting with her new agent, Ashley Mirren, they weren’t set to meet until later in the week. No. Tonight she was going out with Tom.

Ever since they rekindled their old relationship a little over a month ago, she and Tom had to meet in secret. This was due solely to the fact that if Charlie ever found out about them he would surely give her an earful. It was already bad enough that Tom had spent most of their first month together out of the country—he was always busy working on something—the last thing she need was a fight with the other important man in her life. Lying to Charlie gave her great anxiety. (They had just repaired their relationship after all.) She absolutely hated having to come up with excuses—she was a _terrible_ liar—but she couldn’t see any other option.

Charlie wasn’t like her. He wasn’t the forgiving type. Well, at least not with anyone besides her. He called her his “only family.” He still had both parents but after his sister’s death he refused to even acknowledge their existence. His uncle owned the complex they lived in but Cassie couldn’t recall a single time the two shared more than a couple of polite exchanges in passing. She was truly the only person that he trusted. His best friend. His confidant. And how did she choose to repay him? By keeping secrets.

She just needed time. Another month or two. After her and Tom’s relationship strengthened she could finally reveal the truth to her best friend. He couldn’t be angry once he saw how much they’ve grown as a couple, right? Those were the lies she told herself every night as the guilt ate away at her.

“You okay, Cas?” Charlie’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned and saw him leaning cross armed against the door frame of the bathroom. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him knock.

“What?”

“You’re sweating up a storm.” That was how her guilt decided to physically manifest itself.

“Oh.” She dabbed the sweat on her brow with a tissue. “Uh… yeah. It’s just hot in here.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her words. “Cas, it’s fucking freezing in here.”

“I mean… from all the movement. The-the changing and running around.”

“And the excitement.”

“What?”

“Of your meeting with Ash. Y’all still discussing the lawsuit?” Ash had warned her that breaking her contract with her ex-agent George Weiss would be a very messy affair. Lawsuits always are. But that business was so far from her mind that she actually forgot about it.

“Uh… yeah. Amongst other things. Excuse me.” He stepped to the side so she could pass. She once again returned to Charlie’s bedroom and unzipped her suitcase. She had been staying with him off and on for the last couple of months. Whenever she wasn’t in L.A. she would return home to Shreveport, Louisiana. It was complicated and unnecessary—not to mention expensive—but she figured it was for the best. She didn’t want to spend any extra time in the city if she didn’t have to. Besides, there was nothing to keep her there for long periods of time.

Opportunities were born in L.A., she knew this, but none were coming her away due to her career being in limbo thanks to the battle with George. Ash had kept his promise and, with the help of PR superstar Miranda Chavez, was spinning the entire ugly ordeal in her favor. While it earned her the sympathies of fans and other writers, studios refused to even look her way; at least not until the situation was resolved. Cassie couldn’t blame them though. No one wanted to be caught in the middle of what was essentially a custody battle.

Cassie sighed in frustration over the drama of the lawsuit but refused to dwell on it. She only wanted to focus on happy thoughts. This was her and Tom’s first official date after all. When they first started dating last year they never really did “date” activities. Sure they hung out and made love nearly constantly but they didn’t go anywhere. They didn’t actually _do_ anything. The thought hadn’t registered to her until a late night phone conversation two weeks ago when he casually mentioned his younger sister Emma had recently started a relationship with an old university friend. He joked about her gushing over the details of her date with him and Cassie, to her surprise, felt a pang of jealousy.

“You know… we never went on a real date,” she gingerly informed him a few days later.

“Hmm… You’re right.” He paused and she felt her heart begin to thump in her chest. There was no reason for her to be nervous about his answer but yet she was. He was a very busy man. He was always running off to an audition or meeting or rehearsal. A date, no matter how badly desired, was probably very unlikely to occur. Yet the next words he spoke filled her worried heart with grand elation. “We should remedy this.” She screamed so loudly that he had to pull the phone from his ear for fear that she would perforate his eardrum.

Discussing the date was easy. Finding a day and time that fit his hectic schedule was the hard part. That’s why she was currently digging through her old busted pink suitcase in a never worn dress on an early Tuesday evening. He would only be in L.A. for two days then he had to get back to London then he’d, once again, be off to someplace else. She hated that she could only have him in person for a limited time but she figured that a few hours with him were better than nothing.

“Here you are,” she said with a smile as she pulled out a pair of black wedge heels that she borrowed from her friend Kali and stepped into them. She rotated bouncing on her feet as she admired the shoes. “So cute.” Since Charlie didn’t have a full length mirror, she wasn’t sure how her entire ensemble looked. “Charlie,” she called out as she walked back to the bathroom. She knocked on the closed door. “Char—” her words were cut off by the door suddenly swinging open.

“Yeah?” She answered him by twirling around. Charlie, having known her for years, understood that this was her way of asking for his opinion of her attire. “It’s good. You look really pretty, Cas.”

“Thank you,” she replied with a giggle. “What time is it?”

Charlie looked at this wrist watch. “Six forty-five.”

“Shit! We’re supposed to meet at seven.”

“Do you need a ride? I can drop you off at the restaurant.”

“No!” Cassie’s voice rose an octave causing Charlie to stare at her in bewilderment. “Uh, I mean, no,” she said in a much calmer tone. She was not doing a very good job at being inconspicuous. “Don’t bother. I’ll just… catch a cab.”

“Oh…kay… Cas, you’re acting really funny.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just… excited.” Charlie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “No really,” she said in full sincerity. She _was_ more than ecstatic for her date with Tom. Of course, she couldn’t tell Charlie that. Damn this whole thing! A part of her just wanted to confess like a sinner in church. She wanted to fall to her knees and bawl out her transgressions. She pushed the thought aside. She wasn’t prepared to face whatever consequence her admission might produce. Not yet anyway. She needed more time to emotionally prepare for that.

The sound of her cell vibrating against the wooden coffee table thankfully tore her from her thoughts. She picked it up and smiled at the notification. It was a text from Tom informing her that he was a few minutes from their building. “Good news,” Charlie asked as he watched her face light up.

“Uh… Yeah. It’s-It’s just… a… a reminder. A-about dinner.” Her lie clumsily fell from her lips. _Nope. Pack it in, girl. You can’t lie worth a shit. You’re caught now._ Her thoughts further exacerbated her anxiety yet, to her surprise, Charlie neither called nor questioned her on her odd behavior.

Instead he just stared at her. His face was impassive; his eyes were deadlocked on hers. He had never looked at her so attentively before. She shuffled nervously on her feet. God she really wished he would say something. Anything! She just wanted the budding tension in her to be relieved. _Talk,_ her eyes dared him. _No please don’t,_ the panic in her chest screamed. She could feel her knees shake with each passing second. When he licked his lips and parted them to speak she was sure that she would either faint or burst into tears.

“Well…” _Oh, god… Here it comes!_ “Have fun,” he said as he patted her shoulders before letting out a grunt as he sat down on the couch.

Have fun? She should have been overjoyed that _that’s_ what he chose to say but she wasn’t. Surely that couldn’t be all he had to say! Especially not after the way he glared at her. She knew Charlie. There was more. There _had_ to be more. “That’s…” She swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. “That’s all you gonna say?”

“What else do you want me to say, Cas?” She couldn’t explain it but his question felt accusatory. It was as if he already _knew_. But how? She had been clever, hadn’t she? Sure she had a misstep tonight but one bump in the road wasn’t enough to send the whole thing flying, right?

A part of her wanted to tell him to get whatever he had on his chest off. She quickly dismissed that idea. After a pause, Cassie cleared her throat and finally replied with a shake of her head, “Nothing.” She wanted to say more—although she wasn’t sure exactly what. Luckily, her phone buzzed again. She looked down and saw another text from Tom informing her that he had just pulled into the garage and was about to make his way upstairs. She stopped him with a simple, “Don’t,” in reply.

“I, uh, I gotta go,” she said to Charlie. He only responded with a soft head nod. _He knows!_ She pushed the thought away. All this deception was making her paranoid. _He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly. He’s probably tired from a long day on set._ Cassie desperately wanted that to be true. Hell, she even _prayed_ for it to be so. Her phone buzzed again. Another message from Tom. She didn’t reply to this one. Instead, she grabbed her purse off the coffee table and gave Charlie a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

“Have fun,” he repeated. His words weren’t spoken as one friend well-wishing another. No. This time his tone held a hint of displeasure. Cassie wanted to question it but her phone buzzed for a fourth time. No doubt it was a worried Tom. She had to leave now or else risk the chance of him coming to the door. She hesitated to ponder on the outcome of that scenario. Instead she gave her friend a weak smile and headed for the door.

Charlie watched as Cassie quietly exited his apartment. He ground his teeth and clenched his fist in silent rage; his nails threatened to break through his skin. Did she really think she could hide from him? Of all people? Didn’t she know that no one knew her better than he did? Even if that wasn’t so, she was so sloppy about the entire affair.

The walls weren’t so thick that he couldn’t hear her late night phone calls and Skype sessions with a certain British asshole. Then there were the countless texts. How many times did he see _that name_ flash across the screen of her cell? The first time he saw it he hoped it was another Tom. A lawyer or old childhood friend perhaps. When his curiosity got the better of him he unlocked her phone and scanned through a few texts. It was a shitty thing to do, he’d admit that, but he had to know. He had to be sure. However, once he got his affirmation he regretted doing so.

How could she go back to Tom after all the shit he put her through? Cassie was a smart girl but he feared that she was making a very stupid decision. She barely survived the break up last time. Hell their friendship barely survived it. Although he hated to even consider it, he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to help her through another low period once this entire thing went to shit. And it would. There was no doubt about it. That asshole would hurt her and she’ll go dark again. But could _he_ deal with seeing her broken yet again?

The more Charlie pondered these thoughts the angrier the got. He had to expel this excess anger before she returned, before he had to confront her. He stormed to his bedroom and pulled out a pair of worn boxing gloves from his closet. He bought them back in December when filming on his movie began. Unfortunately, he had gotten great use out of them recently since he found out about Cassie and Tom. He marched back down the hall then stopped to grab his cell and house key off the kitchen counter. He stomped out the front door—slamming it hard behind him—then headed for the basement gym.


	2. First Date

Cassie solemnly headed towards the apartment garage. Her mind was still tense from her earlier conversation with Charlie. She tried to calm her thoughts. There was no way he could have possibly known about her and Tom. Her fear and paranoia was breed from guilt. Nothing more. Yet each step she took towards the garage entrance felt heavy. Her stride was sluggish. Her heart beat erratically; her breaths uneasy. Her knees wobbled under the intangible weight of her inner turmoil. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or faint. (Or, perhaps, some dramatic mixture of both.)

She took a moment to rest against the cool door jamb of the garage entrance. Maybe she should just forget the whole date. There was no way she would be any fun in her current mood. Now Cassie felt doubly horrible. Tom would only be in town until Thursday morning and here she stood considering cutting their already limited time even shorter.

She hoped that he would forgive her. After all, he wouldn’t be too upset once he saw her dour disposition. Who would want to sit next to _that_ all evening? Cassie took another calming breath—the inhale was strong but the exit was a bit weak—and opened the garage door.

She barely got two steps outside before running into Tom. He had grown impatient of waiting and was on his way up to check on her. “Cassie! Here you are, love!” Before she could speak he wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I was so worried,” he said into her ear as he leaned back causing her feet to rise off the ground. She was nearly out of breath when he sat her back down. “Is everything all right? I texted you but you never responded.”

She opened her mouth to reply but she stopped short. She wanted to call the date off but she just couldn’t. Not when he was standing before her looking as handsome as ever in his fitted white button down shirt and equally fitted dark blue slacks. His hair was cut short and a bit of a stubbled beard sat on his face making him look rugged. To top it off, that earnest smile she loved so much was plastered on his face. It would be cruel to end the evening early; especially since he seemed so eager. She could swallow her agitation for a couple of hours, right?

“Yeah,” she finally responded; her voice was soft. “I’m all right. Let’s go. We don’t want to miss our reservation.”

“Right. Oh, wait! I got something for you.” Before she could question him, he walked back to his parked rental car, opened it, and pulled out a bouquet of copper-colored peonies.

Cassie gasped as he handed them to her. “Oh, Tom, they’re beautiful,” she said with a sweet smile.

“I know roses are more traditional but I know how much you love these.”

“I do,” she said; the smile on her face grew larger. “So much. Thank you!”

“Anything for the woman I love.” The word caused Cassie to chuckle. It wasn’t because she didn’t believe him. Far from it. She laughed because he made a point of saying it as often as possible. She wasn’t complaining in the least though. There was nothing she loved more than hearing him say it in calls, videos, and texts. (Waking up to a late night “I love you” text was worth more than all the money in the world to her.) Matter of fact, if they ended up cuddling in his car and repeating the phrase all night she would consider the date a success.

“Say it again,” Cassie goaded as she delicately picked at the soft petals of the flowers in her hand.

Tom smiled coyly then took a step closer. He gently ran the knuckles of his right hand across her face. “I love you.”

A rush of heat ran up her cheeks at the word. “I will never get tired of hearing that,” she giggled.

“And I will never tire of saying it.” He pecked her sweetly on her cheek then offered her his elbow. She took it with a smile and allowed him to lead her to his car. She thanked him as he opened the passenger’s door for her before quickly dashing to the other side and getting in. “I keep forgetting you lot drive on the wrong side.”

She chuckled at the statement. “Don’t be blaming your bad driving on us.”

“What bad driving,” he questioned as he started the vehicle. “I’ll have you know, darling, that I’m an excellent driver.” He pulled out of the garage and headed towards the main street.

“Sure,” Cassie said while she continued playing with the flowers in her hand, “for an old guy.”

“What? I drive like a young and sexy man who obeys the speed limit in a foreign country.”

“Old guy,” she reiterated.

He briefly cut his eyes at her then laughed. “I’m not going to let you get to me, speed demon.”

“Yep,” she agreed with a boisterous, tittering laugh. “Just call me Speedy Gonzalez.”

“Speed Racer.”

“Spee…do…”

Tom let out a loud cackle and exclaimed, “I win!”

“No fair. I ran out of names!” Tom jokingly shrugged his indifference as he merged into the left lane. The two sat in silence for a moment before Cassie began humming to herself.

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“What are you humming?”

“Michael Jackson’s ‘Speed Demon.’ You made me think of it.”

“Oh, lord. Cas, don’t s—”

“Speed demon, you’re the fastest one!” Cassie bopped along to the beat playing in her head. “Something, something the life you save could be your own!”

“Oh god, no…”

With his eyes still on the road he attempted to cover up her mouth. But Cassie fought him. She managed to pin his hand between her chest and her flowers. She continued to screech out the lyrics in a high pitched tone: “You preaching ‘bout my life like you’re the law! You’re the blah, blah, blah! Blah, blah, blah! Blah-aah!”

“Oh god… And you talk about _my_ singing!”

“Babe,” she released her hold on him, “ _I_ sound like a Disney princess. _You_ sound like someone having the nastiest sex with a mongoose.”

Tom cackled at the insult. “Damn. That one hurt me, babe.” Cassie blew a couple of kisses at him.

She was surprised—and relieved—how quickly she had forgotten the earlier incident with Charlie. Her anxiety seemed to have dissipated entirely. She was grateful. The last thing she wanted was for her and Tom’s first date to be marred by her guilt and paranoia.

She caressed and inhaled the scent of the flowers in her hand before asking, “So… where we going?”

“You, um, you know that place Capaldi’s?”

“You’re taking me _there?_ ”

“Yep,” he answered, proudly popping the last letter of the word.

“Oh my god, baby! Are you serious?” He nodded. “Oh my god,” she repeated. Capaldi’s was the hottest new restaurant in Los Angeles. Tom had been dying to get in since it opened last year but getting a reservation was hell. (It always is for popular venues.) It could be years before a person even got their name on the list. “How… how’d you get a table?”

“Well, my agent managed to pull a few strings for me,” he proudly replied. “I told him I wanted to take you out somewhere special and he said, ‘Done!’ Impressed?”

“Very much so,” she admitted with a flirtatious smile. She reached over and entwined her fingers into his free hand that rested on his lap. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it before returning his eyes back to the road. “I’ve heard so many great things about Capaldi’s,” she continued as she reclined further in her seat. “I’ve been dying to try it out. I hope it’s as good as all the hype.”

“I do too,” Tom agreed. He would hate to put in all this work for their date to be ruined by dry food and horrible service.

“What if,” she licked her lips causing some of her lipstick to fade, “the food is ridiculously overpriced? Like what if they did some wild shit like charging $300 for salad.”

“Oh god… Or they make up extremely ornate names for the food.”

“And they _never_ make sense. It sounds French but it’s probably something the chef made up while having a fever dream. Like it’s chicken! Ain’t nobody impressed! Chill!”

“And the servings are always so small,” Tom added with a chuckle.

“Right! They give you half a drumstick and drizzle some goop on it. Then top it with parsley and expect you to shell out $150. Do you know how much chicken I can get for that? I can buy everything off of Popeye’s twice!”

“You and your damn love of Popeye’s!” He shook his head and exited the freeway.

“Bruh, Popeye’s is life! I would sell my grandma for a biscuit.”

Tom let out another loud laugh as he made a left then stopped at a red light. “You would do no such thing!”

“You’re right. I would sell her for _two_ biscuits and a Coke,” she clarified.

 “Poor grandma.”

“Fuck you mean? She’d do the same for a two piece and some Cajun fries.”

Tom shook his head and laughed again. The light turned green and he made another left turn. After a few minutes, they finally arrived at the restaurant. As expected, the place was packed. There were a few people waiting outside the entrance in hopes of snagging an open table. Cassie pitied them. She wouldn’t dare stand outside a building in her finest attire for _hours_ just on the _hope_ of someone cancelling a reservation. She would much rather sit out the months-long wait from the comfort of her own home.

Besides the foolish hopefuls loitering out front, there were a sea of paparazzi. The bright white flash of one of their camera’s went off causing her pupils to dilate. Her eyes watered as she tried to blink them back into focus. They weren’t trying to capture her—she wasn’t on that level of fame yet. Instead they were quickly snapping a pic of a young starlet—Cassie recognized her face but her name escaped her—and her pop star boyfriend. The guards—either the starlet’s or the restaurant’s—placed their large, muscular frames between the petite actress and the media hounds.

The poor young woman tried to cover her face but to no avail. A cascade of bright flashes went off around her. To make the horror worse, the paps bombarded her with personal questions she clearly was not interested in answering. “Does this mean you’re no long dating your costar? Are you worried about your upcoming court date? Is this serious or is it just another fling?”

The woman’s salvation came when the valet finally pulled her vehicle to the curb. He had barely gotten out of the car before she pushed past him and slid behind the wheel. Cassie watched in horror as the paparazzi swarmed the vehicle. The continuous bright popping of the lights was blinding. The starlet honked her horn in hopes of them having a smidgen of decency to let her pass. They didn’t. They just continued snapping pictures and screaming questions to the sealed up vehicle.

The entire ordeal caused Cassie to grow anxious again. Even though the chance of them being that aggressive with her was slim, she still wanted to avoid the hassle. (She never wanted the celebrity anyway. She just wanted to make movies. As far as she was concerned, everything else was bullshit.)

“Tom,” she said; her nervousness caused her voice to waver a bit. “Tom,” she repeated, “can we go?” She hated to ask it of him—especially since he went to so much trouble to book a table—but she just couldn’t risk stepping out of the car. Not into that sea of privacy invading vultures. “Please,” she pleaded.

“Yes. I was just going to suggest the same thing.” He too had been watching aghast at the cameramen’s actions. He had seen overzealous paps before but not at this level. It was beyond ridiculous. He rubbed his eyes—which had also become irritated by the repeat flashes—before he started the car and put it in reverse. He checked his view in the mirrors and when the road was clear he maneuvered out of the spot as quickly (but carefully) as possible. Although he _did_ almost hit one of the paparazzi which earned him a ruthless string of swears. Tom responded to these vulgarities with a simple extension of his middle finger before driving away. Both he and Cassie exhaled relieved sighs as they left the hectic scene behind them.

\-----------------

They had parked and Googled a decent nearby restaurant to continue their date. They searched and called around for nearly twenty minutes before finding one that took late reservations. The place was nice but, more importantly, paparazzi free. Cassie’s anxiousness had somewhat calmed when they pulled up and the front entrance was relatively clear—there were a few patrons awaiting their vehicles or cabs outside. Now the only nervousness either of them would experience would be the ones that normally came with a first date.

Thankfully, once they entered the building, they were seated quickly. Unfortunately, however, the service was a tad bit slow. This was understandable due to the place being incredibly packed. (Tom was surprised that he was even able to get a table at all.) Apparently there were more tables than waiters. Hardly a moment passed when the couple didn’t look up to see one whizzing by with various foodstuffs in their hands. Any lull in activity were few and far between. Someone in the distance would signal one of them and a moment later a blur of uniformed red and white would zip by to answer the call.

Yet even this didn’t seem to ruin their evening any. They were just happy to be in each other’s presence after spending (too) many weeks apart. The longer it took for the food to arrive; the more time they could spend with each other. Once dinner was over; their date would be over. Once the date ended; Tom would be on an early morning flight back to London. Then they would be back to weeks of impersonal communications. Neither of them wanted that.

So they bided their time with trivial conversation. Cassie spent almost twenty-five minutes explicitly detailing the last season of _Scandal._ Now, Tom was filling the rest of the wait by telling Cassie corny jokes. The one he had just made—which sent her into a fit of giggles—punchline was “small medium at large.”

“God… that was terrible,” she said once her laughter started to die down.

“I know,” Tom agreed with a hearty chuckle. “It’s my favorite one! My grandfather told it to me when I was a little boy. He always had some silly little joke for my sisters and me.”

“Bless him for it. I love bad jokes. My uncle is the king of horrible puns.”

“Really? Now, I thought I was the king.”

“Oh no, babe. Your jokes are terrible but compared to Unc’s? The most you are…” She clicked her tongue as she searched for the appropriate title. “I’ll give you duke.”

“‘Duke,’” he repeated with a quick laugh.

“Yep. I won’t even _think_ about changing it until you go head to head with him. Pun for pun.”

“Like we’re in a WWE match?” She giggled and nodded in reply before taking a sip of her water. Tom lowered his voice and added, “Two men enter! One man leaves! The Punnerdome!” The silly comment caused Cassie to nearly choke on her water as she fought back another laugh. “Oh, shit! You all right?”

Cassie coughed twice and nodded her head. Tom handed her his cloth napkin and she gently dapped her mouth clean. “Goddammit, dude!”

“I’m sorry,” he replied with a large pleased grin on his face.

“Yeah, right. Then why is that stupid smile on your face.”

“Can’t a man be happy, Cas?”

She now dapped at the drops of water that had spilled on her dress. “Happy that you made me spit out my water?”

“Yep,” Tom answered. Cassie bawled up the napkin and threw it at him. The ball hit him square in his nose then flopped half-unopened onto his lap. He picked it up, re-bawled it, and tossed it back. It missed her, however, and landed on the edge of the table. “Here. Let me try again,” he said with his palms opened wide. She playfully rolled her eyes and threw it back. He caught it but instead of lobbing it back he childishly bounced it between his hands. Cassie softly smiled as she watched him.

She missed this. The easiness they shared with one another. The comfort. They were two friends enjoying a nice conversation as they waited for their dinner. Well... except that they weren’t _just_ friends. They could never go back to that. Their relationship had changed too much. They were something more. Something better. Something… substantial.

She wanted to know him. Truly. Wholly. Intimately. They knew each other carnally but spiritually, emotionally? They were complete strangers.

Sure she knew what songs he liked, his favorite movies and food. She knew that his sexual history was extensive—to say the least. She knew that he had an eclectic taste in literature and a love for practical jokes. She knew that he had two sisters—Sarah and Emma—but nothing else besides their profession. This was nothing more than superficial.

It pained her to realize that even in their year-long friendship before their first attempt at coupling, she hadn’t gotten to know _him._ He never talked about his parents, for example, pass a brief mention here or there. She knew they were divorced but otherwise they were an enigma to her. But she wanted, no, _needed_ to know something significant. These were the people who raised him. That, for better or worse, made him the Thomas he was today and he never spoke of them. She wanted to know his fears, his dreams. She wanted answers to questions even she didn’t have the courage to ask herself. (Like why he pushed her away in the first place.)

This little dinner, this comforting conversation between the two, was a small step towards that. At least that’s what she hoped for.

The waiter finally appeared and set down their orders before them. “Thank you. Looks delicious,” Tom remarked with a lick of his lips at the steaming food in front of him. His appetite was already rapturous but the smell wafting up from his plate exacerbated it. If he wasn’t in public, he would have probably dived hand first into it.

Likewise, Cassie nearly drooled over her meal. “Thank you,” Cassie told the waiter as she eyed the dinner. “Mmm…I don’t know where to start. It all looks so good!” She cut into her steak first then took a large, greedy bite. “Oh god…” she said as she closed her eyes and savored the taste.

“That good, huh?”

“Bruh… Good does not even begin to describe it. It’s like that scene from that movie where the woman’s like, ‘I’ll have what she’s having.’”

“ _When Harry Met Sally?_ ”

“Yeah! That one!” She took another bite. “I have never known anything to taste this good.”

“C’mon it can’t be that good, Cas.”

“Oh no? Try it!”

He cut off a piece of the tender meat and ate it. Sure enough the food was scrumptious. “Oh god, Cas, you weren’t kidding.”

“Told ya! I wanna marry this steak and make edible babies with it.” Tom chuckled and for a few minutes their conversation fell silent as they ate their meal.

“You know what,” Cassie said; a hand rested over her mouth to hide her chewing. “I would love to get the recipe for this.”

“But you don’t cook.”

“Nah, I wanna give it to my grandma and see if she can duplicate this. Be like, ‘Ma’dear, I had the best steak in my life! You must cook it for me forever!”

They both gave a light chuckle at the joke. “You call your grandmother ‘Ma’dear?’” Cassie nodded. “That’s so cute. You know your accent comes out when you say it too. Say it again.”

“Ma’dear,” she obliged with a smile.

“I love it. I can listen to you talk all day.”

“Aw. Right back at you, handsome.”

Tom’s cheeks visibly reddened at her words. He cut off a piece of potato with the side of his fork then ate it. The tender buttered vegetable nearly melted on his tongue. He took another bite before asking, “What does it mean? ‘Ma’dear?’”

“It’s mixture of the words ‘mother’ and ‘dear.’ Mother dear. Ma’dear.”

“Oh. I see. That’s interesting. Are there any other words you do that to?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I mean… I guess there would be, huh?”

“Is that a southern thing? To call your grandmother’s that?”

“Possibly. I mean, I’ve never known any northern blacks to say that. But not every southern black person says it though.” Tom nodded as he listened with fascination. Every now and then he’d divert his eyes to cut another piece of meat or vegetable but she still held his attention. “‘Grandma’ is probably the most common nationally, of course. Regardless of race.” Cassie sliced into her steak. “I’ve also heard ‘meemaw,’ ‘big momma…’ ‘grannie’ goes without saying,” she continued. “I guess it all depends on individual families.”

“So both of your grandmothers are ‘Ma’dear?’ Does that get confusing?”

“No. Only my mother’s mother is called that.”

“What do you call your father’s mother?”

“Nothing. She’s dead.”

The casualness of how she said the words surprised him a bit but he didn’t dwell on it. Speaking on the passing of relatives can be emotionally trying. Far be it from him to pry. Instead he offered a plaintive, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. They died long before I was born.” She shrugged then took a sip of her water. “What do you call your grandparents,” she quickly asked, hoping to shift the conversation from her.

“Nothing too interesting, I’m afraid. They’re just plain ol’ Nana and Pop and Catherine and Maxwell.”

Cassie wrinkled her brow and with a slight tilt of her head asked, “Which ones do you call by their first names?”

“My father’s parents.”

“Huh,” she said before wiping the sides of her mouth with her cloth napkin. “How come?”

Tom exhaled a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “Um… My father had a falling out with them. I don’t know the details but apparently it was bad enough to keep them away for so long.”

“How long is ‘so long?’”

“Well, I… I didn’t meet them until I was maybe…” he cocked a brow and pursed his lips as he tried to recall the exact age, “eleven, twelve, I think.”

“Wow.” That was all she knew to say. She didn’t know the proper words to comfort him. How _does_ one say: “It sucks that your dad’s beef with his folks kept you from having a close relationship with them?” The only thing she could think of was a polite, albeit trivial, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. They weren’t that great a people so I didn’t really miss out on anything,” he quipped. “Besides,” he wiped his mouth with his napkin then leaned forward; he cupped Cassie’s hand in his, “I’m more concerned about the truly important people in my life.” He grazed his thumb across her knuckles before raising her hand to his lips and kissing it sweetly.

She exhaled a soft, airy chuckle before biting her lips and looking away. “You always make me blush when you touch and kiss me like that.”

“I love making you blush,” he smirked as he continued caressing her hand.

“I know,” she whispered. He kissed her knuckles again before turning over her hand and kissing the inside of her wrist. She felt more heat rush to her cheeks. If she were pale skinned, her face would be a crimson red.

Tom looked up into her dark eyes. They begged him to kiss her again and he obliged. Another sweet kiss on her wrist was followed by one on her palm then multiple on her fingertips. An almost inaudible sigh left her lips as he continued pecking her back up her palm. This time he didn’t stop at her wrist. Instead he continued moving up her forearm as far as he could then back down it. With each tender kiss, he felt her tremble in his hand; her sighs gradually grew shakier on their exit.

He had wanted to kiss her the moment she appeared in the garage. She was breathtaking with her short-cut red curls sitting in a flurry about her face. The pink color of her dress made each visible part of her beautiful skin look warm and soft. The short length of it put her toned legs on full display. When he hugged her, he caught a faint whiff of that coconut scent he adored. He also detected a hint of her sweet cologne on her skin. The two scents blended together in an intoxicating aroma. He constantly fought the urge to pull over and kiss her like he was now. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and revel in the feeling of her sweet, soft lips against his own.

Tom planted another peck on her wrist. He knew he should probably stop now. It would only be a matter of time before he’d want to passionately kiss her _other_ places. Those beautiful plump lips would be first. He’d capture the bottom one between his teeth and bite it with just enough pressure to make her gasp. Then he’d travel to her neck. He’d lick the tiny twin moles that rest on the right side of her neck then trail his tongue across to the other side. He’d kiss and lick at the concave between her neck and shoulder before teasing her with a bite. That would make her whimper out for him. But that wouldn’t be enough. No, he would need to taste every inch of her flesh.

He’d move down to her cleavage. First he would trail his thumb around her nipples, watching them beautifully harden under his touch. Then he’d wrap his lips around them, allowing his tongue to dance around them as he sucked on them. A line of his warm saliva would connect between her breasts as he greedily traveled between the two. Then he’d move further down and nibble at her inner thigh. She’d wiggle her hips as the scent of her warm cunt called him to her. Finally, he would taste her. He would sink his finger into her wet center as he buried his face between her thick thighs. Oh, god, he can almost hear her moan. He could feel her hands pulling fiercely at his hair as she pressed him harder against her. He could feel her thighs trembling around his head; threatening to collapse and smother him in this heaven.

Tom mentally cursed himself. He should not be entertaining these thoughts. They had made a vow to be celibate and, goddammit, he was going to keep it. He wasn’t going to give in to his urges. Not now. The fear of losing her again was greater than any sexual desire. No, he wouldn’t dare risk that. Besides he wanted a _real_ relationship. One that was built on love and trust. Something solid. Something that would last past the four-month mark.

He had never allowed himself to experience that. Whenever a past relationship had gotten too close to real, he ran. But he wouldn’t be that man anymore. He refused. They say a leopard can’t change its spots but maybe it could. With time and patience and a hell of a lot of hard work Tom could become a better man. It would no doubt be painful but he would suffer it for _her_. 

He placed another kiss on the back of her hand. This one was more chaste than the others. Then he gently lowered her hand back onto the covered table top. He paused to clear this throat then said, “Should we order dessert?”

Cassie gave him a blank stare. “What the—?”

“What,” he innocently asked.

“Don’t play games with me, you damn tease!”

“When was I teasing you?”

“Just a few moments ago! All the kissing?”

“Cas, baby, I swear I wasn’t trying to tease you.” She pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. He exhaled a short, airy laugh. “Honestly! It was more… I just… I _had_ to kiss you. You just look so… beautiful.” She blushed again at the compliment. “Honestly, I… never mind.”

“What?”

“No, no. If I say it’ll probably ruin the evening.”

“I doubt it. Tell me.” He shook his head and remained unmoved. “C’mon, Tom! Tell me, tell me!” Again he refused to divulge his secret. Cassie sighed and rolled her eyes. “You tell me or I’ll pinch you.”

“Cas, you wouldn’t d—” His words were cut off when, true to her word, she reached across the table and pinched his forearm. “Ow,” he exclaimed as he rubbed the sore spot. “You brute!”

“I warned you. Now tell me or I’ll aim for the nipple next time.”

“You wouldn’t dare do that in public.”

He was right. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t dare risk embarrassing both of them or getting kicked out over something so trivial. “You’re right,” she said dejected. She looked down at her plate and poked at the green vegetables that she refused to eat with her fork. “I guess if you don’t want to tell me,” she looked back at him with her signature puppy dog eyes and pout, “then you don’t have to.”

“Goddammit,” Tom mumbled. He wondered if there would ever come a time when he wouldn’t be defeated by that damn look. “Fine,” he relented with a sigh. Pleased with herself, Cassie immediately perked back up and patiently waited for him to speak again. “I… I was thinking about how beautiful you look tonight and… I don’t know… All evening all I wanted to do was kiss you.”

The confession caught her off-guard. It was far from what she was expecting. “Well, you... you already did that, babe.”

“No. No, I mean. I wanted to… make out like we were a couple of teenagers.”

Cassie smiled at idea. “That’s so cute. Why would that ruin the evening?”

“Because I don’t want you to think that I’m only focused on the physical. We made this celibacy pact and I intend to keep it.” He leaned forward, stared her in the eye, and added, “I mean to do right by you this time, Cas. I’m not going to fuck it up.”

She could make out the sincerity in his tone. It warmed her heart. He was trying so hard. The old Tom that callously broke her heart was gone. So far she really liked this newer one that was emerging. Cassie reached across the table and held his hand. “Thank you for being so respectful. It means so much to me.”

He gave a tiny smile then gently placed his free hand on top of hers. They sat quietly basking in the intimate moment. After a few passing moments, Cassie said, “Okay.” Tom raised a brow. Before he could question her, she clarified, “Pay the bill then let’s go somewhere and neck.”

\-----------------

The temperature of the rental was steadily rising thanks to the passionate activity transpiring in the back of the vehicle. After dinner, Tom and Cassie had searched for a viable place to park. (Cassie jokingly referred to it as “make out point.”) Yet every place in the large city was packed which neither afforded them space nor privacy. Eventually, Tom decided that it was for the best—less chance of falling into temptation—and took her home instead. He parked his car in the garage with the intention of walking her to the door. Yet the second he turned off the engine, Cassie turned to him and said, “Kiss me.” He grinned at the request before agreeing. The garage was enclosed and sparsely populated so they didn’t have to worry about the prying eyes of nosey strangers. They promptly transferred to the backseat; and the second the doors were closed they were on each other.

They cuddled a bit as Tom laid innocent, wet kisses across her face before finally landing on her lips. The scene was sweet and pure. His hands stayed a respectable distance above her waist; she sat demurely by his side with her legs crossed at the knee. It was as chaste as scene from an old romance movie.

However, that was until their kissing became more fervent. Cassie had found a new seat on his lap; cuddled in his arms. Their mouths hardly ever left each other but their hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Hers had found its way into his shirt. An index twirled his light chest hairs before moving further down to explore is lean physique. Likewise, one of Tom’s hands wandered from her waist to her narrow hips. It rested there a moment but soon found itself ducking under her dress and caressing her thigh. Cassie moaned against his lips as his hand moved over her soft skin. The heavenly sound of it incited an almost feral need in him. A desire that normally would not be sated until he was deep within her, repeatedly making her reproduce those sounds until they both came.

He was tempted to slip his hand between her thighs and fondle the outer lips of her pussy. Yet he remained persistent in his vow. Instead he moved it back up to the safety of her waist. Meanwhile, Cassie continued to sigh lovingly as Tom’s mouth moved from her to her jawline. She had grown to miss the feeling of his stubble scratching against her cheek. He nibbled it then traced his tongue across the bite before moving down to her neck. She wanted to whine out more appreciative moans with every lick and kiss he placed on her but she bit her lips and held it in. She had to be careful not to give into that rising hunger within.

But she found it harder to resist. Especially since he decided to focus on that spot to the right of her neck. That always worked her up the most. The longer he fixated on it, the more she could feel her panties dampen. What made it worse was that she could feel his cock steadily harden beneath her. She desperately wanted to reach down, free his cock, and stroke him until he finished in her palm. She could almost hear his deep, accented voice swear and groan as his came. God, now she _needed_ him inside her; filling her in every possible way until her own orgasm rippled through her.

 _Fuck! This_ was _a bad idea,_ she mentally conceded. “Tom,” she whispered, “we… we should stop now… before this goes any further.”

Tom pulled back from her and nodded in agreement. “Okay,” he said before clearing his throat. “I just need, uh, I need a moment for, um,” he signaled to his crotch with his head, “him to go down then I can walk you to your door.”

Cassie would have loved nothing more than for him to walk her up but she didn’t want to risk the chance of running into Charlie. Although she had a lovely evening, it didn’t entirely erase the earlier awkwardness with her best friend. She still needed time to figure out how to reveal the truth of her and Tom’s relationship to him. “No. That’s not necessary, babe. I can walk myself up.” She maneuvered back to her original position beside him and adjusted her clothes. “Plus it’ll give you more time to handle this _situation,_ ” she joked.

“Don’t mock my pain, Cas,” he said with a playful pout.

“Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dare.” She gently tugged his chin before planting a light kiss on his lips. She opened the door and stepped out. Tom attempted to readjust his erection—to no avail—before hopping out behind her. “I told you it’s cool. You don’t have to walk me up.”

“I know,” he said as he continued fixing his slacks; he didn’t want to risk offending any potential passerbys. He tucked his cock to the left of the inseam of his pants. Then walked around the trunk to meet her. “My flight’s leaving early in the morning. I wanted to say a proper goodbye.

“I forgot you were leaving,” she lamented as she puckered out her bottom lip. “It’s not fair! You just got here!”

Tom wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. He closed his eyes and rested his head atop her curls. “I know. I’m upset about it too, baby, but I have work.”

“You should give up your dream so you can spend all your time with me,” she mumbled into his chest.

“I’d love to,” he laughed. “When we’re both old and gray, I’ll retire. Then it’ll be just you and me and our many grandchildren.”

“That sounds nice.” Neither of them wanted the evening to end just yet. So they quietly held one another as the time passed by. “I had a really great time tonight.” She could feel her eyes sting with impending tears. She sniffled and tried to blink them away. She had to be an adult about this. After all, she knew it was coming. But time’s a goddamn goon. It always swallowed up precious moments like this while allowing the painful ones to marinate and fester. All she wanted was one more day to be with him. This one had passed too quickly to be counted. Just one day; one hour. Was that too much to ask?

“I did too,” Tom said as he entwined his fingers in her curls. He was trying to commit every last sensation—her smell, taste, feel—to memory before he left. He would be away for a shorter period this time but still the distance was trying. “I should be back in two weeks.”

“That’s too long.”

“It’s sooner than you think,” he heartened. “Then we can have our second date. Dinner and a movie. How’s that sound?”

“And dancing?”

“That too. We’ll do it all. I promise.” He pulled back from her and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. “I love you, Cassie. How long has it been since I’ve said that?”

“Hmm. About…” she thought it over, “thirty minutes. Give or take. You’re slacking, old man.”

“I am. I still love you, Cas,” he repeated. “That should make up for any lost time on my way back to my hotel.”

In spite of herself, Cassie chuckled. “God, I’ll miss that corny ass humor.”

He pecked her forehead then her lips before drawing her into another tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, too, my pretty one.” They remained locked in each other’s arms as the time slipped passed them. Seconds faded to minutes. But they held fast; basking in that one moment that still belonged to them. Hoarding it as if it were their last.


	3. Secret's Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a brief mention of suicide.

Cassie shuffled up the stairs to Charlie’s apartment. She caressed the petals on the bouquet of peonies in her hand as her emotions ran a gamut. Part of her was still saddened by the knowledge that it would be months before she’d see Tom again. Two long, hard months before he’d have any free time. Even then it’ll be only a few weeks before he’d have to leave again for some career-related purpose. Cassie understood that in their chosen career one must be persistent in whatever work they could find. Otherwise, one would find themselves back on the cold streets with the label “washed up” affixed to them. So for Tom he had to strike while the iron was hot. His name appearing on any potential casting list meant that his star was rising. That meant that any free time was few and far between. Cassie was incredibly proud of him but she ached for his company.

The date was sweet. Thankfully, the brief break in their relationship didn’t create a large chasm between them. They chatted and flirted like they hadn’t missed a beat. For a few hours they were Tom and Cassie again. Two people at their very best.

Yet knowing that Tom would be gone in only a couple of hours burdened the evening with a sad realization. This would be the essence of their relationship. From here on out they would be on borrowed time. She could have him but never fully. Not in the way she wanted. At least not yet. Their time would have to be measured in spurts: a few days or a week at most, a text or call here or there, a late-night Skype session when he had the energy.

Cassie paused when a warm tear fell down her face. She dabbed it away with her fingertips. She thought she had gotten all her sadness out when she said her last goodbye to Tom. Apparently she hadn’t. Maybe she never would. When it came to him, she figured there would always be reasons—new and old—to shed them.

She sniffled and dabbed away the excess tears with her pinky then continued her trek home. “You’ll be alright, girl,” she told herself as she ascended the final flight. “Two months will come like that,” she snapped her fingers, “and then you’ll be back in his arms.” That revelation put a bittersweet smile on her face.

He wasn’t dying, she reminded herself. It wasn’t a sad conclusion but a rocky beginning. Once they figured out how to work around his hectic schedule they could better work on their relationship. Nothing was ending tonight.

Cassie felt a bit calmer now as she searched for her keys. She reasoned that she’ll send him a goodnight text before bed. If he wasn’t too tired, they’d probably follow up with a quiet phone call. They’ll exchange “I love yous” and she’ll fall into a blissful slumber. This would be how they’ll end their distance nights until they met again. She smiled at the romance of it all as she entered the apartment.

Once inside, she headed straight for the kitchen. She needed something to put her flowers in. It would be a shame if they died before she was able to get one full week out of them. Cassie dug through the cabinets for a vase but found none. The only useful item she could find was a large pitcher. “I guess this will have to do,” she said as she took it down.

Charlie shuffled out of his bathroom with a day-old newspaper tucked under his arm. He let out a soft yawn and scratched at his growing beard. He headed towards his bedroom but a loud cluttering stopped him. He knew it was Cassie—who else would be in his shitty apartment at this hour? He hesitated about whether to greet her or not. He was still very angry over being lied to. If he spoke to her now, there was a high chance that he’d say something he’d regret later. Best to let it go, he figured.

Except… he couldn’t.

It wasn’t just anger niggling at him. There was also a hint of betrayal. He didn’t like to be lied to and he _hated_ being played a fool. If anyone else had done that to him, he’d cut them out of his life clean and quick. But this was Cassie. His best friend, his heart, his sister. Untangling their bond would be messy, complicated, and painful. Besides, he didn’t want to end anything. He loved her too much. He just wanted an explanation. That, he surmised, was the _least_ she owed him.

Cassie began to hum some song Charlie didn’t recognize. She was happy. Charlie was glad for that. She deserved to be happy but he knew that this joy was temporary. Eventually Tom would hurt her in some way and she’d, once again, become a blubbering mess in Charlie’s arms. He loved her but he wasn’t sure if he could hold her up any longer.

He had his own issues to deal with after all. His movie was in the final stages of editing and soon would be on the festival circuit. He had to keep his nerves calm and his head in the game if he was going to survive the countless tours and interviews. (This was always the part of Hollywood filmmaking that he dreaded. He could do without all the pomp that came with his career. He just wanted to make good movies.) He wouldn’t be able to focus on work if he knew she was here broken and alone.

Cassie was smart. Charlie figured that if he could appeal to her logical side then maybe she would see things reasonably. She would nip this entire Tom thing in the bud. He had to try, right?

Charlie tossed the newspaper onto the couch and walked to the kitchen. Cassie was still gleefully humming a tune. She paused only to inhale the peonies that were now fashioned so that their full bloom was on display. She smiled sweetly then giggled before resuming her hum. Charlie watched her. He basked in the serene moment. He wanted to enjoy this goodness for as long as he could. The impeding conversation would surely be as ugly as it was necessary.

He cleared his throat causing Cassie to jump in surprise. “Charlie! I didn’t see you there.” She took another absentminded inhale of the flowers.

“I just walked in. Nice flowers.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a smile. “They’re my favorite.”

“Yeah, peonies. I know. Where’d you get ‘em?”

The question snapped Cassie out of her bliss. _Fuck!_ her thoughts swore. She was so wrapped up in the aftermath of her date that she completely forgot. There was no way in hell she would confess the true donor. She wasn’t prepared to have _that_ conversation. Not tonight anyway. Although it pained her to lie, she’d have to once again choose that option. Once she and Tom were stable, she could finally reveal the truth. “I, uh… Ashley bought them for me,” she stammered out.

“Ashley huh?” Charlie ask with a tilt of an eyebrow. “Well… he must’ve had some really good news to tell you then.”

“Yeah. Um… The-the lawsuit is still happening but… uh… it looks like… we’ll get it settled soon.” She gave a weak smile then quickly turned from him. Lying would be easier if she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s what he’s hoping for anyway,” she added.

“Is that so?” Charlie said. He was allowing her another opportunity to come forward. If she turned around now and blurted out, “No! It’s all a dirty lie!” he could quell his simmering anger.

Much to his dismay, however, she didn’t take it. “Mmhmm,” she lied again with a nod. “I’m looking forward to actually working again.” Her hands nervously toyed at the flower petals in front of her. “I think he can get me some decent writing gigs. He talked a big game. I’m just hoping that he’ll live up to it, ya know? I’ve heard around that there were some new dramas on ABC and FOX that were looking for a diverse writing room. So I figure if all this goes pretty well I can…”

Every second she rambled on, Charlie stewed in his building anger. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Cas, stop.” His tone was even, masking his true inner rage. “Just… cut the shit. Please. I know you weren’t meeting with Ashley.”

“What?” For some reason—fear perhaps?—she continued with her deception. “Yes, I was. W-w-we talk—”

“No, you weren’t!” he screamed causing Cassie to jump and finally face him. “Stop lying! You were with Tom, weren’t you?”

There it was. Her dirty secret laid out before her; reeking up the place. She couldn’t run from it now. She couldn’t hide. A brief ease of relief washed over her before anxiety crept up. Tension burned throughout her face causing a faint throbbing in her right temple. It would spread soon until her entire head ached. Her eyes stung. She could bawl at any second. Cassie parted her lips to speak but found herself speechless. Apprehension clung heavy in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard then attempted to reply again; yet she found herself wordless still.

Charlie was that rock; this conversation that hard place. All she had to do was say a simple “yes” to ease the heaviness off her. Yet her third attempt resulted in more stalling and silence. She opted to respond with a weak nod.

Charlie rolled his eyes at her hesitation and inability to speak. “So… he’s back?” The question was rhetorical, of course. It was his own way of stalling. His anger increased with every passing second and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to control it. “You-you didn’t think I…” He balled his fists then took a few calming breaths. Nothing soothed him. “You didn’t think I needed to know… that you were seeing the _asshole,_ ” he nearly shouted the word, “that treated you like pure shit again? That-that-that just… slipped your mind?”

Cassie looked away like a chastised child. She could only manage a shrug in reply. That was it. That little hunch of indecision unleashed his full wrath. He slammed his palm against the counter making her gasp and jerk. “Goddammit, Cas! Answer me!”

“I… I don’t know,” she croaked out.

“You…” He exhaled an incredulous gasp. “You don’t know? Is that what you just said? Speak up, kid! I can’t hear you!”

She cleared her throat; the throbbing in her head worsened. “I don’t know,” she repeated. Her tone was a bit louder now but her words still wavered on their exit.

“You don’t know?” He let out a tiny, shaky laugh. “I… I can’t… What the hell were you thinking, Cas? Why-why-why would you get back with _him?_ Of all people! He hurt you! He broke your fucking heart!”

“That was then.” The words fell from her lips with surprising ease this time. “This is different.”

“How? How in the hell is this different?”

“He’s changed. He realized he made a mistake and he’s better now. Charles,” she dared to step closer to him; he didn’t pull back, “he said he loved me.”

His face twisted in confusion. “So… so that makes it different now, huh? It’s not like he said that to you before. Oh wait! He did! Almost a year ago! Then he took it back! Who _does_ that, Cas? Assholes! That’s who!”

“He was,” she licked her lips. “He was just scared then. But… but he’s not now. He’s better now.”

“No, he isn’t! He’s selling you the same ol’ shit with a new wrapper on it. Why can’t you see that, Cas?”

“Look, Charlie, I know you have no reason—and I have no right to ask you—but you gotta give him another chance. This time we can work! He wants to make it work. He wants to be a better man. Why won’t you let him?”

“Why won’t _I_ —?” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t… I don’t understand you, Cas.”

“What?”

“I don’t…” He sighed and looked back at her. “I don’t get _why_ you like to hurt like this. I can understand why you’re so afraid of letting go of people—even toxic ones—but I can’t… I can’t, for the life of me, get why you keep circling back to the really, really shitty ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t being cryptic, Cas. I really wanna know why someone as brilliant as you are will continue to do such _stupid_ ass shit. Like run back to these assholes who only want to harm you.”

“Why are you being so mean?”

“I’m not being mean, Cas. I swear I’m not. But I need to know. I gotta know why you keep running around in these wounded circles. Love, pain, misery. Love, pain, misery. Over and over and over again.” He rested his hands on her shoulder. “You know I love you but it is _hell_ watching you hurt yourself like this. Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you tired of the Toms and Simones fucking you over?”

Cassie shrugged his hands off her. “I knew it!” she scoffed. “I knew you were gonna bring her up. I _felt_ it! I could hear it in that smug little tone of yours. You just _love_ to bring her up whenever you want to win a fight!”

“This is not about winning! This is about me trying to wake your ass up! You’re missing all the danger signs and for what? Some good dick?”

“Don’t do that, Charles. Don’t diminish my relationship like that.” She rolled her eyes. “And don’t stand there and take the fucking high road with me! Or do I have to remind _your_ ass about all the shit that went down with James?”

“That was different.”

“Was it now?”

“Yes, Cas! And you know it! See… you do this.” He laughed wryly before dragging his palms down his face in exasperation. “You like to toss my shit out to deflect from yours but it’s not gonna work this time. This is about _you_. And your bad habits.”

“‘Bad habits?’ I…” Cassie bit her bottom lip then took a calming breath. “Look… I get… I get why you’re upset. I do. I really do. Yes, he did me dirty. We both know that but, more importantly, _he_ knows that. And, yes, logically I should just wash my hands of him and be done. But it doesn’t work like that. When you’re in love—”

“Oh god, Cas!” Charlie scoffed.

“—when you’re in love you—”

“Please!”

“—you can’t just shut it off!”

“Spare me the bullshit please! Don’t talk down to me like I’m a fucking half-wit!”

“I’m not talking down to you, Charles. I just… I want you to not be angry with me.”

“You’re asking for too much, Cas.”

“I really don’t think I am. I’m just asking for you to not do that thing you do when people don’t behave like you want them to.”

“‘That thing?’ You mean ‘care?’”

“Oh my god…” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Don’t. Don’t do this, Charlie. Please. Don’t high road me on this. I am begging you.” She clasped her hands together and pleaded, “I am not asking you to suddenly be best friends with the guy. And I’m not asking for your approval. Because I don’t want it and I know you wouldn’t give it if I did. What I want,” she spoke slowly so her words could be heard, “what—all I’m asking… is that you support me.”

“No.” His tone was softer now.

Cassie scoffed and rolled her eyes. She ran a hand through her short-cut curls then said, “My god, Charlie. I only—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupted. “Listen. You are not _only_ asking for support. Because, baby, that’s all I do _now_. In every aspect of your life, all you’ve _ever_ gotten from me was support. So that is not what you want from me. No. What you want… what you’re _asking…_ is for me to watch you cut yourself in front of me and to stay quiet about it.”

“Charles—”

“You’re demanding that I turn the other cheek so that you can run back to that same old pain.”

“Listen—”

“You want to me be silent so you can be guilt free for the next four, five, six months until he drops your ass again. And, believe me, he will. Because that’s the kind of man he is, Cas. And I can’t guarantee that after he’s done that—after he’s _broken_ you again—that I’ll still be here to pick up the pieces.”

Cassie furrowed her brow in confusion. “Wait… So you’re saying that-that if I don’t do what you say that’s it? Friendship over?”

“No, Cassie. God… I’m saying… I love you. With all my being but I do not have the energy. I don’t. Not anymore. Baby, because,” he sniffed, “you… you have no idea how hard it is to see you give up. To see you drink yourself into stupors when your world goes to shit. To see you go dark, and cold, and distant. And no matter what I do I can’t get to you when you’re in that place. When you’re there I can’t get in unless you let me in. And you don’t do that so often or easily.”

His mind flooded with hundreds of unhappy memories. The countless tears she cried on his shoulder. The alcohol binges that she often faded into. The numerous times he had to clean her vomit and piss off whenever she was too drunk to make it to the toilet. The many lost nights where he’d worry himself sick about her mental health.

Seven years had passed but he could still remember her suicide note she texted him. “Please don’t be angry. You’ve been so good. But I just can’t anymore. It hurts too much and I’m tired. So so tired. -C” Sometimes he could almost still feel the sharp pains in his chest as he sprinted across campus to her dorm. His right shoulder suffers a permanent dislocation from heaving it against her wooden door in a failed attempt to bust it in. His dreams were still often haunted by the sight of her lying still on her bed; her lips purple; her breaths eking out in inaudible whispers. He would never un-see that nor his sisters broken little neck for as long as he lived.

Charlie’s eyes began to well up with tears as he reminisced. He tried to blink them back but a few betrayed him and fell anyway. He sniffed again as he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “I cannot watch you hurt like this. Not again.” He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands. “I know this will be hard but… you gotta let him go.” More tears fell. He didn’t bother brushing them away. “Please.”

Cassie was crying now as well. She grabbed a hand and brought it to her lips and kissed it. “You have been so good to me, Charles,” she whispered.

“Cas… No. Don’t say it.” He could hear it in her voice: her stubborn resolution. Her mind was already made up and no amount of tears or pleas would change it. This entire conversation was for naught.

“But…” Charlie freed himself from her grip and stepped back. He turned from her. He couldn’t look at her right now. It hurt too much. “Charles…” She touched his shoulder but he flinched from her. She took the hint and crossed her arms over her chest. “I gotta see what this could be. I love him. And I know you think I’m stupid but, god, I do. And I gotta try for my happiness, ya know? It won’t be like last time. You’ll see.”

“No, Cas. I won’t.” He sniffed and wiped his nose with hand before facing her again.

“Charles…”

“Cas, don’t make me do this.”

“Okay. I won’t. You… you won’t have to see him or hear anything about—”

“No. I mean, don’t make me play the bad guy here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He inhaled and exhale trembling breathes. “Goddammit,” he mumbled. He didn’t want to say it. It wouldn’t be fair to put this pressure on her but the words were persistent on tumbling forth. “Cas, you gotta choose.”

“What? No! That’s not fair! You can’t make me choose between my best friend and my boyfriend.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do but here we are. I mean it, Cas. I am not fucking joking. If you choose me, I will do everything in my power to kick that asshole outta your system.”

“Charlie!”

“But, and again, I’m being deadly fucking serious, if you choose _him_ … I will not be here to watch him stomp all over you. I will not pick you up. I will not soothe you. I will not fight with or for you. I will not do a single fucking thing. There will be no _us_ if you choose him, Cas.” It was a bluff. One that he hoped would work in his favor. She’d hate him for it, he knew, but in time she’d come to see that this was for the best. Eventually she’d thank him for helping her break the circle before it was too late.

“So that’s it, huh?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the ultimatum?”

“Yes.”

A moment passed as she weighed the options. After her internal debate she conceded with a simple, “Okay.”

“Okay?” A tiny smile grew on Charlie’s lips. Relief washed over him as he felt the tension in his head ease. “Good.”

“Yeah. I mean if… if that’s what you want. If-if that’s how you want to play it then fine.”

His good mood quickly dissipated. These were not the words of a woman who chose wisely. “Wait… Cas…” Cassie stormed out of the kitchen. She grabbed her purse off the couch and dug through it. Once she found her car keys she then grabbed her jacket off the nearby chair. Charlie watched her in stunned disbelief. “Cas, Cas! What are you doing?”

“I really wish you hadn’t done this, Charles.” She slipped into a pair of flats then headed towards the door. “I really do.” She sniffled and he could see fresh tears form in the corners of her eyes.

“Wait, wait! Cas! No, no, no…”

She stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t. Just… please don’t.”

“Cas… I didn’t… You don’t—”

“I’ll spend the evening in a hotel. I’ll be back to get my things later.” She stormed out of the apartment.

Charlie grabbed the edge of the door before it could close behind her. “Cas!” He called after her. She ignored him and continued to the exit stairwell. “Cassie! Please!” She continued onward in determination. He could only watch in an odd mix of confusion, sadness, and lingering anger as the heavy exit door slammed shut behind her.

Charlie had no option but to return to his apartment. Chasing after her would be a bust. She wouldn’t listen to reason. No, she had to return on her own volition. However long that may be, unfortunately. He closed then rested against the door. His mind replayed the night’s events. He should have never given her that damn ultimatum! It was the last act of a desperate man. One who, perhaps, had severely over estimated his importance in her life. That realization stung his heart and threatened to make him cry again. He didn’t try to fight them this time. They flowed freely like rivers.

“Goddammit!” He yelled as punched against the door. He repeatedly swore and hit at it until his hand ached. Charlie flicked his hands to ease the pain but it was of no use. He rested against the frame again in exhaustion and muted anger. When his legs tired, he slid to the cool, hardwood floor. A hodgepodge of emotions—anger, sadness, resentment—stirred inside him. It was anyone’s guess which would arise at any given moment. Anger returned first. He ignored the sharp pains in his muscles as he pounded the ground. He bellowed out an echoing “Fuck!” then resumed his angry beatings.

When he tired of that, he sat for a few minutes in quiet indignation. His mind continued to torture him with his and Cassie’s failed conversation. Each repeated memory added another wound to his grieving heart. This time sadness won out. “Goddammit, Cas. God-fucking-dammit,” Charlie softly swore as he wiped away a newly fallen tear.


	4. Domine Libertatis

Cassie clacked her pen against the wooden desk, pausing only to glance the time on her watch. It was a little after 11:30. So far she, her agent, Ashley Mirren, and their lawyer, Peter Fitzgerald had been waiting for over an hour for their meeting with George Weiss. He did this on purpose. Cassie was sure of it. This was the third time this meeting had to be rescheduled and now he had the audacity to be late! He was punishing her for moving on. Rather, he was punishing her for moving on to Ashley.

Ashley and George went way back. “We came up together,” Ashley had told her once. “We were too skinny kids from Brooklyn with a dream. But, you know, life and all that shit took us separate ways. Then next thing I know he says we ain’t partners no more. ‘I gotta go my own way’ or some shit. I tell him, ‘Hey, that’s fine, pal. Fine. You do what you gotta, yeah?’ Fast forward some years, I’ll admit, he’s doing better than me, making more money, more connections. His name means something in this goddamn time. All that’s fine. Just fine. But one day he says we ain’t _friends_ no more. And that shit hurt more than anything, you know? Cut me off like a long hair on a broad’s nipple. From then on, we were enemies. Now we always had our little competitions growing up, but now? Now it’s… different. Yeah, it’s different, kid. So trust me when I say all this shit here got fuck all to do with you.”

Those worse had comforted her some then. But that was months ago. When Ashley also promised that the bad publicity would work in her favor. When everything was supposed to be settled now and she could finally move on. Ashley had mistaken how deep George’s hatred for him was. And George, obviously, seemed to be a petty man. He would ruin Cassie’s career just to put another thorn in his ex-friend’s side.

Cassie resumed her agitated clacking. She peeped the time again. Only a couple minutes had passed now. Time languished in this purgatory. She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “Okay this is getting ridiculous! Where the hell is he?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, kid,” Ashley answered. Cassie shot him a warning look about his incessant use of that nickname. “Sorry. Cassie,” he corrected. She thanked him with a nod of her head then resumed her anxious movements. Ashley sighed heavily as he pulled his cell from his pocket. “Enough of this bullshit,” he grumbled to himself. He pulled up his contacts then hit dial on a unsaved number. “Fucking…” he continued to mumble as the phone rang and rang. After a while, the voicemail answered. “George, you fucking piece of shit,” Ashley almost yelled into the phone. “You get your flat, hairy ass over here and handle this goddamn shit like a goddamn man or I swear to Christ—”

“Ashley,” their lawyer chided. “Calm down.”

“‘Calm down?’ I’ll calm down when this fucking prick answers his fucking phone! Or better yet, when he gets his lily white ass—”

The large double doors flying open surprised the trio. In the middle stood George, two of his lawyers, and his secretary. “Sorry I’m late,” he said with a smirk. The words obviously more a formality than sincere. “I had an important meeting that ran late.” The awaiting trio stared at the man with disdain.

Cassie had never really hated George. She disliked his treatment of her, sure, but hate? No, not at all. Yet in this moment, watching him smugly stride to the other side of the table like he was a king among peasants, a god among mortals, she despised him.

“Where the fuck where you, you—”

“Ashley,” Peter cut him off with a wave of his hand. He was beyond exhausted. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with the two men. Peter had often found himself in a room with the constantly sparing duo. He was an expert on how this meeting would go. Three rounds of petty bickering that would either end with a mutual agreement (rare), one side conceding to the other (frequently), or their defiance would lead them to court (often). Though he hoped today would bless him with the matter settling out of court.

Normally, he wouldn’t mind going to court. A big case meant a lot of publicity fame; which in turn meant more money. It was the circle of life. A game that Peter reveled in playing. Usually. When it came to George and Ashley’s fights, it was more like being stuck on the boss level of a shitty video game. One where only the same three moves could be executed and the reward after a possible defeat just wasn’t worth it. The only thing these little tiffs guaranteed Peter was a retainer fee and a headache.

“Thank you all for joining us,” Peter said before retaking his seat. “I have another meeting at,” he looked at his watch and rolled his eyes, “soon so let’s just get down to it.”

“I agree,” one of George’s lawyers said. “Let’s start with how your client must be out of his damn mind if he thinks mine will just let him walk all over him.” The man gave Peter a smug smile, letting him know that he would do everything in his power to destroy him. In this room or in court, it didn’t matter. He already marked Peter as he prey and he was going to eat.

Peter return the smile with one of his own. He didn’t frighten him. He wasn’t some freshman lawyer that shook easily at the sound of large teeth. He had his own bark and bite. People often underestimated his youthful appearance. Mistook his round, clean-shaven face for a inexperienced, incompetent joke. And he’d let them. He’d let them play right into his hand then, when they got good and comfortable, smothered him with his viciousness. “Fine,” he said simply while clasping his fingers together. “Likewise your client must be the densest man on the planet to go to war, to drag this thing out, over a contract that, in the end, will only loose him _more_ money. Think about it… If you fight this, if this thing goes to court, that’s at least two years, _two years_ of bad publicity and fees and, really, do you want that? I don’t think you do.”

“Cute,” George’s lawyer returned. “Your client signed a five year contract that she hasn’t fulfilled. She broke that contract by signing with Mirren before meeting the agreed upon period before renegotiation, thereby, committing breach of contract. Every court in California will side with us.”

“My client was unhappy—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t remember seeing anything about a happiness clause.” He pretended to rifle through his papers to look for the non-existent information. “Why didn’t you just say she was unhappy? If we had known!” George smirked at his lawyers sarcasm; Cassie grimaced.

Peter remained unfazed. “She was unhappy,” he continued his earlier thought, “because your client didn’t live up to his part of the agreement. Which states,” he pulled out his file and read from the paper, “‘…one year of the agreement must be completed by the second party,’ which my client has done. ‘…after the initial period the first party’—your client,” Peter clarified with a grin, “will offer renegotiations upon any of the previously agreed upon sections except percentage payment.’ My client did her part. She waited a year but your client made no effort to extend her any such negotiations.”

“B-but,” George’s second lawyer spoke now. He looked even younger than Peter. Peter knew better than to underestimate him, however. If he was brought here, then he obviously knew his shit. He studied the man intently as he listened to him speak. The second lawyer cleared his throat and began again, “The contract also stated that such negotiations can only begin when your client initiates them. Here in, in,” the man flipped through the papers on the table, “Section A, subsection C, paragraph 1: The second party has the right to extend or cancel this agreement but all notifications must be made either in person or writing with the first party within no less than three months after the anniversary of the signing of this agreement.’ In-instead of meeting with our client, she instead signed a new contract. A mutually agreed upon cancellation would’ve stopped all of this.”

“Right,” the first lawyer agreed.

“Right,” Peter conceded. “Which is why it’s so strange since my client did attempt to contact Mr. Weiss numerous times only to be rebuffed and dismissed.”

“That’s ‘numerous’ bullshit!” George scoffed.

“Mr. Weiss!” His lawyer admonished. It would be better for him to not speak. Like Ashley, George had a penchant of digging himself deeper when his emotions got involved. The calmer and more professional he remained, the better.

Yet George continued on: “What? It’s bullshit!” He laughed now. “She didn’t read her contract so now she’s gonna lie and _I_ gotta go to court over it?”

“It’s not a lie!” Cassie spoke up now. She had read that contract thoroughly. She even spoke to a lawyer about her options. She only had to dedicate a year. One year. Twelve months can go by so quickly. The wait would be easy as breathing. Originally, she had hoped that she would not need to call for any renegotiations. All George had to do was live up to the hype the fed her. Keep her name hot, slide proper acting or writing opportunities her way. She knew it wouldn’t be easy and the man couldn’t magically change the nature of Hollywood. Yet she hoped that she would’ve gotten _something_ within that time frame. All she got instead, was the same three roles—roles she begged him to not even consider—and excuses. She could even recall at one point hearing Charlie talk to the man at least three times a day about an offer. Charlie was turning them down left and right. George really worked for him. But for her and Daya? The man was a ghost. Appearing every so often to give them a “boo” here or there before fading back into the walls. When the time frame to meet with George neared, she contacted him almost daily. For her effort, she got half-apologies and lazy excuses.

And now here he sat lying his flat (and apparently hairy) ass off. “I called you nonstop,” Cassie said. “I emailed. I even came to your office. And every time—every time!—you were too busy!”

“Cassie.” Peter placed his hand on her hers to calm her. Cassie took the hint, folded her arms, then leaned back in her chair.

“What my client was saying,” Peter said, “is that due to your client’s negligence—”

“‘Negligence?’” George’s first lawyer repeated, nearly laughing at the term. “Really?”

“Due to his negligence,” Peter continued, “my client was not able to fulfill her part of the contract.” The other lawyer opened his mouth to rebut but Peter quickly added: “We have proof. Countless unanswered emails, phone logs, and I’m pretty sure that your, uh, secretary here,” he signaled to the woman who had been fastidiously taking notes of the meeting, “can attest to the various rescheduled and eventually _dropped_ appointments. Matter of fact…” Peter pulled a large brown clasped envelope from his file folder then stood to his feet. He sauntered over to the opposing side of the table and dropped the enveloped onto the table with a resounding thud. He smiled at the way the sound caused the group to jump. Cassie, allowing herself this tiny bit of comeuppance, did as well. “Here’s your copy.”

Peter began his slow stride back to his seat. He shot a wink at Cassie. Elation flooded through her. “Now if we take this to court, we’ll show them that and argue that _your_ client intentionally and maliciously, I might add—”

“‘Maliciously?’ C’mon—”

“Oh, it was quite vicious! Your client refused to uphold the terms of the contract by simply agreeing to a meeting, thereby breaching the contract himself. Furthermore, once this gets out, with the media already seeing my client as the Little Red Riding Hood to his Big Bad Wolf, plus with the shit that we all know that’s already brewing in the horizon… Well…” Peter finished his thought with a shrug then took his seat.

Cassie’s eyes grew wide as she watched her lawyer work. The performance he was giving was phenomenal. It almost made her wish this entire ordeal _did_ go to court just for the dramatics alone. She pushed the thought aside with a tiny grin. Okay that was taking it a bit far. But she did want to see him in all his glory. For the first time since this entire ordeal happened, she felt as if she could win.

“Let’s be real here for a moment, okay?” Peter continued. He was on a roll. “We all know that George doesn’t give a shit about this contract. This yet another petty… thing… between him and Ashley here. I know it; they know it. And, more importantly, you know it.” George didn’t try to disagree. Instead he offered another smug smile. Cassie would give her right arm to smack it off him. “We all know goddamn well that it’s going to get real ugly for your client in the upcoming months. This case will be the first in a long line of shit. Don’t you think it’ll be smart to focus all your time and efforts dealing with the a more important issue?” Peter crossed his leg and leaned back in his chair. A large confidence grin grew on his lips.

In turn, George’s own smile faded. Cassie’s grandmother always said that God worked in mysterious ways. Although she never believed in a god, Cassie had to admit that the past month’s rumblings have been nothing short of heaven sent. There was a scandal involving a dead underaged girl who may or may not have had illicit relations with a few very powerful men in Hollywood. These men may or may not have known that she was a teenager. These men also may or may not have played a part in the young girl’s untimely death. Likewise there may or may not have been a book—kept by the girl’s mother—of all these powerful men. George’s name may or may not have been mentioned numerous times on that list paying for said girl and mother’s silence. Peter was right. Pressing this suit with Cassie would not be in his best interest. Especially since it was clear that he would lose.

George looked to his lawyers. His sullen face silently requested a sidebar. “Give me a minute to speak to my client.”

“Even better, I’ll give you two,” Peter replied before signaling for Cassie and Ashley to follow him out.

 

\-----------------------------

 

It took ten minutes for George’s team to discuss among themselves. Cassie whiled away the minutes pacing the lobby. George had sent his secretary out as well. So whatever was being discussed would be off his personal records. Cassie wasn’t sure if that plus the wait were good signs.

“It’s fine,” Peter reassured her.

“Yeah?” she nervously questioned while still pacing.

“Yeah. Look,” he waved her over, half to talk in private, half to cease her constant movement. “He’s scared. He knows we got him. Because of this childish ass feud with Ashley, he fucked himself with your contract. If he’s in there being a stupid fuck and telling his lawyers to fight this, he’ll go to court and lose. Once it gets out how he sat on your window, well, he’ll look even worse than he does now.”

“I doubt that,” she scoffed.

“Hey, trust me on this. He will. No matter what anyone tells you, the court of public opinion is just as important as an actual legal one. You think you’re the first one to breach a contract with this prick? You think you’re the first one he played this lil’ game with?” He answered his own questions with a shake of his head. “You’re just the most recent entry in a long list. Most up-and-comers don’t know any better. They don’t read the fine print. Get fucked over by trash like him every day. And for the ones who _do_ know their shit, they usually get scared whenever he mentions a lawsuit. Trust me I’ve seen it too many times.”

Peter spotted George’s secretary making her way towards the water fountain besides them. Not trusting her intent, he pulled Cassie further away. Once he was certain they were out of earshot, he continued: “If we go to court with this, and you win—and believe me, you will—it’ll be… it’ll be like dominoes. One falling after the other. If his clients think they can win, they’ll risk the lawsuit. Whether or not it works out in their favor is irrelevant because all it takes is one. One to cause a scene, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cassie agreed. She felt more confident now.

“Besides,” Peter added, “even if none of that shit were true, why on earth would he risk fucking with some small time shit like this, no offense…”

“None taken.”

“When he got real trouble—I’m talking about years and millions wasted—right around the corner. The smart decision would be to agree to release you from your contract. George might be a lot of things—a bigot, a cock tip—but he’s no idiot. You’ll see.”

The large doors flung open; George and his lawyers marched into the lobby. Cassie tried to take her lawyer’s words to heart but she couldn’t. If there was one thing she knew about this man, it was that he was little. A trifling man. And she knew from trifling men. They rarely—if ever—took the high road. They were petulant, selfish children. Cassie just wanted to be free so she could move on. Her career had stalled enough. She needed a change; a progression. George would defy all logic to stop her. Because _that’s_ what trifling men do.

So she watched with bated breath as the men walked towards her. The distance between her and possible freedom closing with every footfall. The seconds passed like hours with every inch forward and unspoken word. It felt as if the very life was draining from her.

Finally her lawyer and George’s stood face to face. George’s lawyer opened his mouth. Cassie knew that whatever he said next would decide her fate for the next couple of years. The man extended his hand, and with a nod said, “Okay. We’ll drop the suit.”

Cassie felt the air return to her lungs. She wanted to cheer. She wanted to shout. She wanted to run around the building. “I thought you would,” Peter replied smugly before shaking his opponent’s hand.

The man didn’t reply. He only shot Peter a look of disgust before heading toward the elevator. Ashley, however, couldn’t wait to gloat. “Well, ol’ Georgie Boy, looks like you lost another one.”

“Fuck you, Ashley,” George replied before following his lawyers down the hall. “Gretchen!” he called after his secretary. The woman didn’t speak. She offered a quick nod to Cassie who returned it before trailing behind her boss.

Ashley’s booming laughter filled the lobby. “That fucking prick! But, ay! You’re free now!”

“I know! I know!” Cassie replied.

“How does it feel?”

Cassie could not hide the large, toothy grin she wore. “Like… like…” She chuckled at the words that came to mind before blurting them out. “Like I’ve been born again!”

“Well, hallelujah, my sister! Say it again!”

Cassie lifted her arms and repeated, “I have been born again!”

“Amen! A-men!”

Now Peter joined in the laugh. “We should celebrate properly.”

“Fucking right we should! But tonight, I’m already late for other appointments thanks to that ass,” he said in reference to George. “But definitely tonight! I’ll get my secretary to get us a table somewhere. Someplace expensive.”

“How about Capaldi’s?” Peter suggested.

“Can we even get a table there?” Cassie questioned. “Last time I tried to get in it was… a mess.”

“That’s because you tried to go without Ashley Mirren,” Ashley said popping the collar on his shirt. Cassie giggled at his bravado. “They love me there, kid. Trust me.”

Cassie was too overcome with joy to correct Ashley about that damn nickname. Nothing could ruin her mood today. Nothing. “Okay! Calpadi’s it is!”

“That’s what I wanna hear, kid!” Ashley glanced at his watch. “Shit! I gotta go.” He headed down the hall towards the elevators. He turned and called back to Cassie. “I’ll have my secretary call you!” He didn’t stop his movements. Opting to walk backwards instead. “She’ll send a car to pick you up tonight. We’ll drink, we’ll eat, we’ll laugh. Ay, we’ll talk business, alright?”

“Sounds good, Ash.”

“We’ll talk business, kid! What did I say would happen if you stick with me, kid? What did I say?”

“‘Stick with me, kid. I’ll change your life.’”

“And did I lie, Cassie? Did I fucking lie?”

“No, Ash,” she said with chuckle. “You did not.”

“Ah that’s what I love to hear!” He continued walking backward until he ran into a person. Instead of apologizing, he grabbed the poor soul and pointed to Cassie. “You see that girl down there?” he asked the man.

“Yeah?” the man questioned more so out of annoyance than actual intrigue.

“She’s gonna be huge. She’s gonna be a big star! Watch!”

Cassie shook her head at the scene but couldn’t help but smile. Ashley was already miles better than George. At least he had confidence in her. She would need that for the upcoming months. Her life was heading down a new path. She could feel it. As certain as the sun would rise and set tomorrow, something was coming. Something good. Something she needed. Though she wished that it was Daya and Charlie sharing this moment with her and not her lawyer, she didn’t dwell on the sadness that often crept into her whenever she thought of them. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now, she would revel in the fact that—finally!—her life was falling into place. That things were working in her favor. For now her weary mind and spirit could be at peace. And that quelled the sorrow in her heart and comforted her wounded soul. She would bask in this joyous moment. She would hold on to it fiercely for as long as she could.


End file.
